


The Tsukuyomi

by Itachis_Husband



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Foster Care, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itachis_Husband/pseuds/Itachis_Husband
Summary: He had to leave him. If he were to build a better life for them both he had to distance himself from the toxicity of their childhood home. Once he was financially stable he'd come back. Itachi would give Sasuke the life he deserved. But Sasuke turned to other means to deal with his emotions. And now he's dead. And suddenly a child he never knew has come into the picture. But why didn't Sasuke tell him? What else was he hiding from Itachi all this time? Modern AU.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

“You wouldn’t understand. When I’m high, I can laugh again. Like, actually laugh! I don’t remember the last time I laughed when I wasn’t high! When I’m high the world looks like a story book! The clouds are fluffier, the sky is blue, and the grass is green and there isn’t trash everywhere, or horns blaring or homeless people camping out on every corner! And best of all, I don’t feel like a total and complete fuck up! But you’d never understand. And the worst part is, you don’t even try to. You never have.”

Itachi woke up sighing. Which was pretty pathetic if you thought about it. Imagine being trapped in a nightmare, opening your mouth to scream, and waking up with a start. You jolt upright and hyperventilate until you can safely confirm that you’re out of harm’s way. Except in this instance, Itachi didn’t jolt upright and knew he wasn’t in harm’s way. In fact, he couldn’t remember what he was even dreaming about. Instead, he felt more tired than one should upon waking up.

He pushed his upper body into a sitting position when a twinge of pain shot down the left side of his face, originating just above his eye. Perfect. He loved starting the day with a migraine. Though when he looked around the room was dark, illuminated by the glow of the city around him and the darkening twilight sky.

The day as he knew it was over before it had even begun.

He reached over to where his phone lie face down on the nightstand, not charging. At 6:52pm he had two missed calls, two voicemails, 8% battery life, a warning to charge his device, and a hangover. Fantastic.

He slid his legs out from beneath the covers and bent down to connect his phone to the charging cord which had fallen onto the floor at some point. What did one do with less than three hours left of the day? Drink to excess and hope for another hangover tomorrow? Perhaps. Visit a bar? Maybe he could count how many people were worse off than he was just by looking at them. That was an idea. But going to a bar meant looking presentable. He’d have to shower, put on a nice pair of jeans, pay an uber or drive himself. And then there was the music playing so loudly you could barely hear yourself think much less converse with the bartender and the people around you. He hadn’t even taken medicine for his migraine and here he was considering a night out at the bar?

He sighed again and leaned forward to let his face rest in his palms. When did he grow so old? When did his youth come to an end?

That, in and of itself opened another series of questions such as “Did his upbringing remotely resemble what most people would call a childhood?” Probably not.

He reached over for his phone to see who called him. If he was going to get drunk tonight he might as well tend to this small matter first and then forget about it later.

Who could it be? He wondered. It was an unknown number so it couldn’t have been one of his associates. Whoever it was had called at 1:12pm and again at 5:01pm.

Spam? No, a spam call wouldn’t have resulted in a voicemail.

“Good afternoon, this is Nono Yakushi calling from Konoha’s Social Services. This message is for Itachi Uchiha. Please return my call as soon as you receive this message. Thank you.”

Konoha’s Social Services…

It probably had something to do with a case Itachi was working on recently though it didn’t immediately ring any bells in his mind. He’d give them a call in the morning if they didn’t call him back first.

The next morning there was yet another voice message from Konoha’s Social Services waiting for him along with another hangover waiting for him. “Good morning, this is Nono Yakushi calling from Konoha’s Social Services. I am calling in an attempt to reach Itachi Uchiha. When you receive this message please call back as soon as possible.”

It was 11:09. The voicemail was timestamped at 9:17.

He heaved a sigh, ran his hand through his bangs and dialed the number. Despite the fact that his head was pounding and he couldn’t remember the last time he showered, he could still come off as charming, informed, well-intentioned, and professional as always over the phone. He’d done it in the past and he’d do it again.

“Konoha’s Social Services, this is Nono Yakushi.” A woman answered, typing rapidly in the background.

“Good morning, this is Itachi Uchiha,” Itachi smiled into the phone whilst pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m was just returning your phone calls. Before we begin can you state the nature of the case this pertains to so I can pull up my file?”

He had no intention of pulling up any file. His memory was sufficient enough.

“Pardon?” The woman on the other end of the line asked.

Nono Yakushi…the name didn’t sound familiar to him. “I presume this call has some relevance to a case my firm is currently working on. I’m the founder of Uchiha Law & Associates on Stellrecht Avenue?”

There was a slight pause. “Oh! I see! I apologize for the confusion Mr. Uchiha. Actually, I’m calling to inform you that we have a child in our care and have identified you as being the next of kin. Would you be willing to come down to our office to discuss some of the details?”

He blinked once. And then again. And then a few more times before rising to his feet to fetch a glass of water and a piece of paper and a pen. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that please?”

“We have a child in our care and have identified you as being the next of kin. Usually we would have you come down to the office, talk about the surrounding circumstances of the case and if you agree to assume legal guardianship of the child we can get started on processing the paperwork. Would that be okay?”

To someone like Itachi, the language should have been simple: this child is related to you. Can you take care of him or her? But to his hazy mind all he could process was child, you, forever. Did his parents have another child they were unable to care for? Would they have told him? Did one of them have an affair? Or maybe that was closer to the plot line of the drama he’d found on TV last night when drinking wine straight from the bottle.

“I know this is a lot to process Mr. Uchiha, but if you have some availability today would you be willing to meet with one of our staff to discuss this at our location today or tomorrow? Today would be preferable but it depends on your availability. Please understand how importance this is.”

It was a moment until he realized he was nodding into the phone and that words were not materializing automatically. He needed to give them an answer despite not knowing what to say himself. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there in one hour, is that alright?”

“That’s fine. Do you know how to find our office?”

He mumbled an audible “yeah” and an occasional “yes, of course” to each of the questions without really hearing or understanding what was being asked of him until the call ended.

When it did, all of the tension in his muscles released. He let himself melt onto the island countertop in the kitchen, the phone sliding out of his limp hand. His mind was reeling as if he’d just spun around in circles for the past ten minutes. His insides were coiling. Last night he was eating pizza out of a box and this morning he was to assume guardianship of a child he didn’t know existed?

His throat constricted, and his abdomen tensed. He inhaled and exhaled in short breaths, forcing his arms to push his weight up and away from the countertop, and spun around on his heel to face the sink.

He wasn’t twenty-one anymore. Was it really that hard for him to comprehend?

\--

Growing up Itachi was never proud of his father’s alcoholism. He didn’t appreciate the way their mother tended to the house, cooked for the family, and cared for him and Sasuke while their father went out drinking with his co-workers at a bar until all hours of the night. He’d come stumbling back in, trip over the runner in the hallway, knock over a few picture frames in an attempt to break his fall, and carry on until he made it to the couch. The next morning their mother would clean up the mess and tell them their father couldn’t see very well in the dark when he came home from work.

Itachi knew better than that but played along for Sasuke’s sake.

But Fugaku Uchiha took pride in his work and his title of Lieutenant so he always cleaned up nicely. Well, their mother cleaned him up nicely. She’d blend a post-hangover concoction her mother used to make her drink when she was younger after a wild night of partying with her friends. She’d brush stray stands of hair out of his face. She’d button his uniform for him. She’d spritz him with cologne and tuck a case of breath mints into his pockets before seeing him off. And despite batting her away and declaring he could do everything himself, he left the house a caring husband, loving parent, and upstanding member of the Konoha Police Force.

Itachi wasn’t proud to admit that he learned a few tricks from this routine their parents created. In fact, he’d go so far as to say he perfected it because he was capable of executing it by himself. He didn’t have time to recreate his grandmother’s special hangover cure, but a cup of black coffee did the trick nicely. He took a shower, brushed his hair, applied a subtle cologne that masked the smell of alcoholism and existential dread and put on his best clothes. Sure, it wasn’t an important hearing by any means but the newly dry-cleaned suit, dress shirt, dress shoes, argyle socks, tie and cufflink combination would put to rest any doubt that he was an alcoholic whose life was falling apart at the seams which he most certainly was not!

Social Services just managed to catch him on one of his off days…that was all.

Konoha Social Services was a newly remodeled building close to the city’s center that was equipped with large blue tinted windows, a two story entryway, and pictures of generous benefactors lining the halls.

“Hi, how can we help you today?” A young woman at the receptionist’s desk asked him.

He carefully removed his coat and scarf and draped it over his arm. “Hi, yes, my name is Itachi Uchiha; I have an appointment with Nono Yakushi at 1pm.” He said, lightly tapping his watch.

The woman smiled pointed to the clipboard sitting in the middle of the raised countertop. “Wonderful; if you could just print your name here and the time and I’ll let Ms. Yakushi know that you’re here, okay?”

Itachi smiled and quickly wrote his name and the time while the receptionist called for Ms. Yakushi.

“She will be down in a moment.” She assured him with a pleasant smile. Her countenance changed from a professional one to a familiar one as she squinted and began wagging her finger at him. “Have I seen you before?”

Itachi bowed his head slightly which was a mistake because he was still edging on nauseous from this morning. In fact, his stomach was bubbling with anticipation of what was to come of this meeting with Ms. Yakushi which wasn’t making things much better. “More than likely. I’m a local defense attorney though many of my cases deal with inmates, not so much children.”

“I thought so!” She smiled. “But I couldn’t put my finger on it!”

Itachi glanced upwards. “Must be the glasses. I can’t beat the aging process but I can try to cover it up.”

The receptionist threw her head back in laughter and clapped her hands. “You’re playin! You can’t be older than thirty!”

Itachi shrugged. “It feels like it most days.”

“Itachi Uchiha?” A soft voice echoed from his right.

Itachi turned to see a thin woman with blonde hair swept over one side of her shoulder. She wore large glasses that made her look much younger than any pair of glasses made him look, a black long sleeved shirt, a plaid gray skirt and slow heeled shoes. Very conservative. “Hi, I’m Nono Yakushi, thank you for coming to meet me on such short notice.” She said, extending her hand.

Itachi lightly shook her hand. “Thank you for being so flexible; again, I’m sorry it took so long for me to respond.”

Her eyebrows raised in sympathy like a see-saw does when a child vacates it. “I can imagine.” She nodded. “Come with me, let’s talk in my office.”

“Sure,” He said and gave a short wave to the receptionist whose name he couldn’t remember.

“How have you been?” Nono asked, as they walked down the hallway. “I’m really sorry to hear about your brother’s passing.”

So she knew. In his haste to get ready Itachi hadn’t read the local paper to see if the obituary had been published yet. He’d been checking for the past several days and came up with nothing. And this morning he was too busy trying to figure out which relative of his had any children. But the answer was staring him right in the face all along.

His brother’s death. The call from social services.

It was Sasuke’s.


	2. Chapter 2

A mysterious child he knew nothing about. His brother’s recent passing. This child was Sasuke’s.

“Mr. Uchiha?” Nono asked.

He didn’t realize he stopped walking until she called him. “But you’d never understand. And the worst part is, you don’t even try to.” The words haunted him every minute of every day. He’d tried to understand Sasuke. He understood Sasuke better than anyone else, or so he desperately wanted to believe. He wanted to help Sasuke. He wanted to make Sasuke laugh like he did when they were younger. He wanted to see Sasuke achieve his dreams. He wanted Sasuke to shoot for the moon and anything else he could have wanted.

He wanted Sasuke to experience the joy of living without the drug addiction.

But that wasn’t going to happen anymore. And the worst part was his brother died without knowing these things. He couldn’t see it and Itachi never told him what he truly felt because he thought he’d have more time.

And apparently their relationship was so broken that he hadn’t trusted Itachi with the biggest mistake – no, secret – blessing? Why couldn’t he get it right? If the words in his head would make Sasuke angry what hope did he have of saying something – anything – that would make Sasuke listen for a change?

“Mr. Uchiha, I’m so sorry.” Nono said, placing a gentle hand on his shaking shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Itachi whispered hoarsely. “Tell me about him. Or her.”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Nono asked. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

Itachi shook his head and wiped the corners of his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Tell me about this child.” He said a little louder this time. “I don’t care about the paperwork. I want to know what he or she is like.”

Nono’s look of concern softened into a warm smile. “Would you like to meet him?”

It was a boy. A boy that looked just like Sasuke. “’Tachi?” He could hear his younger brother saying.

His heart clenched like a balled fist, forcing the air out of his lungs in ragged breaths. “Yes.” He whispered. “Yes. I’d like to meet him. Yes.”

Nono straightened a bit, sighing contentedly. “Allow me to make a few phone calls. He’s been placed in temporary foster care until we could get in contact with you. In the meantime you’re more than welcome to sit in the lobby and wait. We have a Keurig machine if you’d like to fix yourself a drink.”

Itachi nodded quickly, almost fervently. “Yes, I’d like that.” He said. When he returned to the lobby he hastily asked the receptionist “Can you point me in the direction of your rest room?” He said before adding, “Too much coffee.”

She nodded and pointed to the nearest hallway around the staircase. Itachi thanked her and quickly sped in that direction, thankful for the lack of people in the vicinity. As he approached the men’s bathrooms, he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt and removed his suit jacket in a few swift motions.

When he fell to his knees in front of the toilet he heard the clatter of breath mints in his pant pockets. Perhaps his mother didn’t send their father to work with breath mints to cover the smell of alcohol on his breath after all. Perhaps it was for occasions such as these.

“I’m really sorry,” Nono apologized again when they were comfortably seated. Just past the receptionist’s desk and the winding staircase were several couches seated around a coffee table in front of a fireplace. They were close enough to the door to watch for the child and his temporary foster family, but far enough away that when the door swung open they were shielded from the icy blast of cold air that escaped inside.

Itachi waved his hand dismissively. “It’s alright. My brother’s death was recent and unexpected. I wish there had been more closure between us but that’s something that will get better with time, or so they say, right?”

Nono nodded. “The heart heals with time, that’s correct.”

“So what can you tell me about him?” 

Nona brought the first knuckle of her index finger up to her chin as if pondering where to begin. “Let’s see, he’s four years old, he’s quiet, introverted and very polite.”

Itachi’s racing heart slowed to a dull thud in his chest. Quiet, introverted, and polite. When Sasuke was four years old he ran everywhere he went. The balls of his heels echoed against the hardwood flooring of their townhouse and through the ceiling above them. Itachi never wondered where his younger sibling was because even if he couldn’t see him he could always hear him. When they played hide and seek Sasuke could never suppress his laughter or internal monologues. “I wonder where Itachi is hiding.” He’d say just above a whisper. “I wonder if he’ll be able to find me here.” And when Sasuke didn’t get his way (which was often), he’d throw a tantrum loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. “WHAT? NO FAIR! ISN’T THAT CHEATING? FATHER! FATHER! ITACHI CHEATED!”

Itachi smiled at the memories. No matter how quietly Itachi or his mother spoke to him, Sasuke’s voice always grew. “HE ONLY CARES ABOUT ITACHI!” Sasuke was about seven or eight when he first confessed to feeling that way. And he would continue to feel this way until the day he died Itachi thought. “You’re all talk Itachi! You’re not the only one who had a fucked up childhood you know that right? Oh, that’s right, how can I forget? You can’t see things that are right in front of you!”

“Sasuke, I moved out. There is no relationship between our father and myself to speak of. Now’s the time you should be spending trying to—”

“Do you need to get your hearing checked too, Itachi? You moving out didn’t change a thing! Our father doesn’t give two shits about me! You’re the only one he fucking cares about.”

Nono was staring at him with that look of concern again.

Which meant that he was disassociating. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that last part?” He asked with a charmingly apologetic smile.

She smiled, relieved that he wasn’t on the verge of a total breakdown like earlier and nodded. “He’s a little gentleman. One of the sweetest boys I’ve met.”

“YOU’RE ALWAYS RUNNING AWAY LIKE A FUCKING COWARD!”

Gentleman. Sure. But Itachi understood genetics. It took two to tango. Sasuke’s impulsivity was recessive to his partner’s more reserved side. But the fact that Sasuke had a child that Itachi didn’t know about confused him to the point of frustration. And if he did have a child, who was his partner? Did they know what Sasuke was dealing with in his last month? His last weeks? His last days? His last moments? Did they understand things about his brother that Itachi could not?

But if Itachi was the next of kin, was Sasuke’s partner even alive?

Just beyond the double set of doors, two blurred figures, a woman and a small child, appeared and were steadily coming into focus.

He quickly rose to his feet and straightened out his trousers so they’d be free of wrinkles. Not that it mattered though. Four year olds didn’t care about such things.

“There he is!” The woman exclaimed and pointed in Itachi’s direction.

There stood before him a mirror image, not of Sasuke, but of himself when he was a child. He had short hair that didn’t stick up in the back as Sasuke’s always had because of his refusal to brush it in the mornings, and neat bangs that hung just above his eyebrows. His eyes were cautious, studying the room and the people inhabiting it. And his body language suggested nothing that would lead to an impulsive outburst or unbridled energy that would no doubt lead to running laps around the room. In fact, he stood straight, hesitant to initiate the first move as most children behave when confronted with strangers. Sasuke had no such restraint. “Hey what’s that? Can I see? Whoa, that’s so cool!” He had no shame in wondering away from their mother to talk to a stranger about anything that caught his interest. Their receding hairline, the food in their grocery carts, the children walking with them, or the trading cards or gaming consoles some children brought into the store with them before iPads had been invented.

But something told Itachi this child was obedient and would not wander off carelessly. Maybe time would tell once he got to know him better. Afterall, one of his parents were dead, another was unaccounted for, and all that was left was someone he’d never met before.

Unless he had?

No. Itachi wouldn’t – couldn’t – entertain that right now. Right now he was presented with a precious moment that would last a mere seconds. How he behaved and what he chose to say could dictate the path of their relationship going forward. It was too late to make amends with Sasuke. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

He slowly knelt onto one knee and beckoned the child to come closer.

Whereas Sasuke would have come running blindly into a poke to the forehead, this child stayed put. He looked between Itachi to the woman who brought him in, and back to Itachi again.

“I promise I don’t bite.” Itachi coaxed.

Still the child did not come.

“Do you want to say hi to the nice man?” The woman asked him.

He said nothing. He didn’t nod nor shake his head.

The woman smiled and took his hand in hers, closing the gap between them.

From a distance, the receptionist was leaning over the counter, watching the awkward interaction unfold. The woman who had brought the child in was leaning forward, her hands tucked between the crevice of her legs while her attention was fixated on the young boy beside her. And while he couldn’t see Nono, he knew she was standing closer behind him.

“Hello there.” Itachi began. “My name’s Itachi. What’s your name?”

Itachi could see the gears turning. Do I trust this stranger, or do I stay quiet? Or maybe he was as nervous as Itachi felt. His head was spinning. On any normal day he could fake being the picture of perfect health in an enclosed office with minimal interactions with his employees. Putting up a constant front in front of a social worker and your selectively mute nephew was much harder.

“Itachi.” The child said.

“That’s right.” Itachi smiled, grateful to know that the child was not hearing impaired or selectively mute after all. “What’s your name?”

“Itachi.” He repeated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the review. You know who you are. I'm hoping you'll stick with the story to find out why this child is named Itachi and I hope you enjoy the next two chapters.

He named him after Itachi. Did that mean that everything was just a front? Was it pride? Heat rushed to his cheeks and his vision glossed over. Was the young child who adored his older brother still there this entire time? The young boy who tugged at the hem of his shirt begging him to play after he was done with his homework? The image he saw every time he looked at Sasuke?

Or was it the opposite? Did Sasuke know that this child existed? Did Sasuke name him out of the respect he held for Itachi or did someone else name this child without Sasuke’s knowledge? In that case, did it mean anything?

Nono leaned over beside him. “Why don’t we read some books in my office like we did yesterday?” She asked the child, sensing Itachi’s inner conflict. “Would you like that?”

The child nodded.

“Mabui, can you show them to my office? There’s a basket of children’s books in the corner. I’ll handle anyone who comes in.” Nono called to the receptionist.

“Sure thing!” She said, ducking back into her alcove.

Itachi was vaguely aware of Mabui leading the woman and child down the hallway while he slowly regained his composure and slid his body onto the couch. “That name…” He said, not knowing where exactly he was going with it. His mind was a jumble of words but none of them were coming together to form coherent nor complete sentences. “Our relationship was strained. For a while now. I don’t understand…I don’t understand why he would...”

“It can be hard to process the death of a loved one.” Nono agreed. “And your name isn’t common so I can imagine your surprise when meeting someone who shares it.”

“I don’t feel well…”

“Would you like a glass of water?”

He didn’t realize he’d admitted it out loud. Nonetheless he was tired of pretending to be okay. Sasuke’s sudden death. Their tense relationship. The lack of closure. His “drink to forget” mentality of late. The consequent hangovers. A secret child who shared his name.

“You don’t have to reach a decision today. If possible we try to pair children with the next of kin to keep them with their families. I realize that this is a difficult time for you and until you’re ready to make a decision we can keep him with a foster family—”

“No. I’ll do it.” He said. The words effortlessly rolled off his tongue. “I’ll sign the paperwork.” He nodded, mainly to convince himself that this uncharacteristic impulsion was necessary.

Nono sat straight across from him, her hands resting in her lap, her legs swept to one side. She looked at him at length, studying him behind her round frames. “Let’s arrange to complete the paperwork tomorrow Mr. Uchiha. You look pale and it’s a lot to process. Obtaining guardianship of a child is not something to be taken lightly or made on impulse.”

“I’m fine.” He said though he knew that she was telling the truth. His desire to make things right with Sasuke post-mortem clouded his judgement. Deep down he knew he needed to go home, wait out this hangover, and process the events of the morning and approach them tomorrow with a clear head.

“You will also want to think about the needs of the child.” Nono continued. “Do you have a car seat, do you have clothes for him, do you have any child appropriate books for him to read or toys for him to play with? These things must be taken into consideration as well before making any major commitments Mr. Uchiha.”

She was right. Itachi didn’t have any of those things in his apartment. Hell, he didn’t even have a bed for the child to sleep in at night.

“So take time to think it over and let’s arrange to meet again tomorrow to discuss your decision. We can fill out the paperwork and work together with the foster family to arrange a time to drop him off with you. What do you think?”

“That sounds good.” Itachi said, bowing slightly. “Thank you for both your time and for all of your help during this transition.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She smiled.

Nono rose to her feet, as did Itachi. “May I…see him before I go?” He asked. In his mind, he imagined the child would run into his open embrace upon seeing him. The child would look just like Sasuke and say something about wanting to meet Itachi or how much Sasuke had talked about him. But instead the child stared at him as though he were little more than a stranger to him. Which he probably was considering Itachi knew nothing about this boy’s existence prior to this morning as well.

But this child, who shared the same name, was probably confused and afraid. Itachi didn’t know what his living situation was like prior to being put in foster care, but living with strangers who weren’t related to you was probably stressful. Maybe incomprehensible at that age. Now he was suddenly introduced to a family member he’d never met and maybe never even heard of until now.

His hesitation was expected.

Itachi, as the adult, however, should have pushed past his own problems and said something meaningful or at least embraced him in a hug. Instead he froze and now he regretted it. Their first meeting made awkward by Itachi’s fixation on minor details and memories from the past. Was it really so hard for him to live in the present and enjoy each moment without ruining it?

The door to Nono’s office was wide open, revealing Mabui, child Itachi and the foster mother who had accompanied him reading a book together on the floor. Mabui was mimicking some sort of explosion and making a ballooning motion with her cheeks and extending her arms as far as she could without bumping into anything. The foster mother sat on the other end of the child, holding the top corner of the book and instructing him on how to carefully turn the pages.

Sasuke ripped his fair share of books when he was a child, Itachi remembered with a fond smile.

The foster mother looked up to meet Itachi and Nono’s eyes and politely excused herself. She rose to her feet and entered the hallway to speak with Nono privately out of earshot.

Itachi looked to Nono for permission to enter and received a small nod.

“Look who it is!” Mabui announced.

The child paid her no mind and continued studying the book before him.

“He’s a man on a mission.” Mabui told him.

Itachi smiled. “I see that.”

“So what’s the verdict?” She joked, looking at adult Itachi.

Itachi chuckled lightly. “I’ll be back tomorrow. There are some things I need to take care of on my end in order to prepare.” He smiled and crouched to their level. “What are you reading?”

“The Real Story of the Three Little Pigs.” Mabui answered.

“The Real story?” He asked, squeezing in beside them.

Mabui nodded. “It’s like the story of the three little pigs but it’s told from the wolf’s point of view. It’s pretty interesting.”

Between them the boy mouthed the words as he traced them, his tiny brows knitted together in intense concentration. It was difficult for Itachi to hear what he was saying but it sounded as though he was reading the words by himself.

“Has he read this before?” Itachi inquired.

Mabui shrugged. “He said he didn’t when I asked him about it earlier.”

Interesting. There were more words on the page than the type of book Itachi expected a four year old to have the patience for, let alone read word for word. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the child was idly flipping through the pages and asking about the illustrations but this was far from the case.

Itachi casually observed the boy as he read. On the few occasions he mumbled through words he didn’t recognize Itachi would quietly read them for him and go back to watching. When the boy came across the same word again, he paused, thought about it, read it correctly, and continued on. He did not look to Itachi for approval or for praise. He just kept reading.

Nono and the foster parent had since returned and stood watching from the doorway. Mabui crawled to her feet and excused herself to tend to the front desk again, leaving only the four of them in the room together.

There were so many things Itachi wanted to ask the boy but refrained from doing so. In the next day he would have plenty of time to spend with him and ask him questions. He’d start off slow of course as to put the child at ease in his company.

But his foster mother was waiting and he wanted to be respectful of her time, especially when she was called out here on such short notice. His opportunity would come tomorrow. He just had to be patient until then. And from there on out they would have all the time in the world to spend together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains language that degrades women that may upset readers. Please remember that this is a work of fiction and the thoughts and attitudes expressed in this chapter by no means represent how I feel towards women nor is it language I condone in my daily life. Thank you for understanding.

“Go away.” Sasuke growled through the open crack of the door.

A frustrated huff sounded from the opposite side. “I just want to talk to you for a minute! Is that too much to ask?”

“Yes.” He gruffly replied.

Another huff, only more pitiful this time. “What I have to say is kinda important y’know.”

“Then start talking before I shut the door in your face.”

The woman behind the door growled lowly. “Would it kill you to take something seriously for once in your life?” She screamed loudly enough for the neighbors to hear. But before she could say anything more, a loud thud resounded through the hallway. Silence settled like the dust particles dislodged from the ceiling above.

He slammed the door in her face! He didn’t care about her. Or her feelings. Or what she had to say. Or about the bond that once existed between them. She inhaled, choking back sobs.

“I-I-I’M PREGNANT!” She cried before breaking down entirely. Her shoulders shook violently and tears flowed in hot streams down her cheeks. She wiped desperately at them, only smudging her eyeliner and thoroughly drenching her face and palms in her sorrows.

On the inside of the apartment, Sasuke stiffened. She was pregnant? Could he believe her? Did it matter? They were nothing. An occasional fling. An escape from a society that didn’t care about them. A means to an end. He had no intentions of staying in a committed, faithful relationship with her, much less any other girl who made advances on him. He didn’t waste time talking about frivolous subjects like marriage, children, or the future. His present life was a joke as it was and not even a funny one. Why make a fool out of himself and prolong his embarrassment by entertaining ideas of what could be? A turd covered in glitter was still a turd at the end of the day.

His phone buzzed from the kitchen but he ignored it.

A liar and a slut. That’s what she was. 

Sasuke, on the other hand, was a lot of things. A hot head, a loner, a black sheep, an outcast, and a ticking time bomb. He changed jobs as often as he changed his underwear because he didn’t give a fuck about anyone or their expectations of him. His credit was bad because he frequently spent money he didn’t have substances that would transport him to another place. He spent so much time blacked out on his couch instead of living for the present moment which made him forget about things like paying his bills on time. He was irresponsible at times but he wasn’t stupid. Especially when it came to things he could be blackmailed for by clingy sluts.

Unsure if she was still standing outside and not thrilled with the idea of an altercation in the hallway, he resolved to take a shower to pass the time. He liked showers. It was one of the few things that made him feel like a blank slate. Like he could start over. The hot water beating on his face and his eyelids. Scrubbing his muscles with soap and watching it all wash away and disappear down the drain as his body relaxed. If only the rest of his problems were so easy to get rid of.

When he returned to his living room in a pair of sweatpants and a towel wrapped around his neck he walked to the kitchen to retrieve his phone. His earlier train of thought left him wondering if he was supposed to be at work right now or something. Maybe that would give him an excuse to get out of this shit hole and away from the psychopath probably keying his car in the parking lot.

He should have expected the bitch would blow up his phone while he was in the shower.

“I love you.” Pathetic.

“Please talk to me.”

“Please?” Okay, this was kind of funny.

“I HATE YOU.” So did he. What else was new?

“I HOPE YOU DIE ALONE.” He couldn’t care less. He expected he’d die alone anyways.

“I hope you’re happy. This baby is going to grow up without a father. Is that what you want?” Like he cared. He grew up with a father who was never there. His mother could take care of both him and his brother. Hell, Itachi could have taken care of him when he was nine if it came down to it. If his nine year old brother could do it then this cunt could too.

“I’ll raise her by myself.” Go for it.

“You’re going to pay. Whether you’re in her life or not. I’ll make sure you help.” Yeah. Sure. Whatever. People like her said things when they were desperate. They said whatever they could to reel you back into their twisted mind games. He’d seen it before. This time was no different.

“I’ll take a test to prove it too.” Who’d believe her?

“You can lie all you want. It’s not like you remember the last time we had sex anyways.” She had a point there. He couldn’t remember. But it didn’t matter. She seemed to be okay with raising a child on her own. What more did she want from him? Some sappy bullshit like turning over a new leaf? A hand written apology on the back of a gas station receipt?

“Asshole pothead.”

“I know you do a lot more than weed. And I’ll turn you in too.”

She finally struck a nerve. Sasuke raced for the door and yanked on the doorknob which gave a fraction of an inch, obstructed by the deadbolt. The fingers of his right hand fumbled with the deadbolt while his left held tightly to the door frame, pulling every few seconds for the moment the bolt and chain fell. When it did, he thrust the door open wide and lunged into the hallway. He looked left and right, but nobody was there. He bolted down the hallway and jumped an entire flight of stairs, landing on the side of his right foot. He let out a strangled cry but his rage fueled him like an uncaged animal. He held onto the railing of the next flight, hobbling down with his uninjured foot and bracing himself against the narrow wall with his other arm.

The pain in his ankle was nothing compared the pain this bitch would feel when he got his hands on her. He’d scare her into submission. He’d silence her himself. She’d think twice before threatening him like that again.

When he pushed through the front door and onto the street there was no sign of her. And that was saying something when you were on a hunt for a girl with unnaturally dyed hair that stuck out in a crowd.

He growled, suppressing his desire to scream profanities into the street for all to hear and turned back inside. He slammed the door behind, clipping his sprained ankle in the process. He howled in pain as his hands fell to clasp the swollen joint as he dropped to his knees to crawl to the base of the stairs.

Why did things always go so wrong? Last night he was laughing, singing, and dreaming that he was the hero of his own story. The good guy that could do no wrong. The purveyor of truth and justice. The one who ended everyone’s suffering. The image the local police force was supposed to be upholding but was failing miserably at.

He took a shower for God’s sake! Not even thirty minutes ago his body was clean and his mind was free. He was untouchable. He was at peace. He was himself.

And here he was, writhing at the bottom of a dirty staircase that was covered in moldy green carpeting from the 70s in a dark wood paneled hallway in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

Being sold out was bad enough. Would he go to jail? Lose his apartment? Be forced to live on the streets? Isn’t that Fugaku Uchiha’s son? They’d ask with pointed fingers when they brought him down to the station. I thought his son owned a law firm or a bank or something. And just like that he’d be another homeless body taking up space on the city’s clean streets.

In addition, the bitch was claiming to be pregnant. How would that bode for him? It wouldn’t. Women always got off easy because they were frail and dainty and easily manipulated. Fuck that shit.

”Son of Local Retired Lieutenant Arrested for Possession and Rape Allegations.” The headlines would say. Not that anybody he knew read the paper or watched the local news station.

“My dad said Sasuke was arrested.” Naruto would tell Shikamaru. “That can’t be true, can it? Sasuke would never—.”

“My dad said the same thing.” Shikamaru would say. “Not that I’m surprised. That guy lost his mind and fell off the tracks a while back, you know?”

Of course they would say those things. They didn’t give two fucks about him. And he didn’t give a rat’s ass about them either.

“Sasuke, what happened to you?” He could hear Itachi whispering in the courtroom.

Itachi…

Would Itachi side with him? Or would he sit on the sidelines?

That was it! Itachi would listen to him! Itachi would be able to help him figure out if he was going to jail or not! He could give him legal advice! He’d…

“I said LEAVE. ME. ALONE!” He’d screamed in his brother’s face on more than one occasion. But unlike today there wasn’t a door between them. “Just because we share the same parents and the same blood doesn’t mean we’re anything alike!”

He lowered his head between his knees, hands still cupped tightly around his sprained ankle. Like Itachi would defend someone who hated the very sight of him. At least the criminals Itachi defended in court respected him. Listened to what he had to say. Trusted him. Sasuke couldn’t even do that.

His ankle throbbed under the pressure of his clenched hand. His head was pulsating like speakers at a rave. His chest ached and his insides felt like electricity was surging through him but not in an energizing way.

Sasuke was a lot of things. A hot head, a loner, a black sheep, an outcast, a ticking time bomb, a pothead, and a shitty younger brother.

Tears dribbled from the corners of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

He wished life was like a shower. He wanted to be clean and start all over again…

\--

Itachi was seventeen the last time he attended the funeral of somebody close to him. As time went on the details of that day and the events leading up to it, became fuzzier and fuzzier to him. A little over a decade later he couldn’t remember feeing like he’d been hit by a train. Of course, as an adult alcohol was a factor. And with alcohol came hangovers and with age came migraines that didn’t go away.

“That’s what I get.” He murmured to himself. He rubbed his eyes and stretched underneath the covers. No more excessive drinking he promised himself. If he were to assume the responsibilities of guardianship he needed to reevaluate his life choices. Grieving or not he couldn’t afford to live like this much longer. Sooner or later he would have to go back to working from nine to five. He’d have to make breakfast and cook dinner for two instead of one. Gone were the mornings where a cup of coffee and an orange scone constituted for a well balanced breakfast. Gone were the days of waking up past six at night. Gone were the evenings spent drinking out of the bottle in front of bad sit coms or low budget movies.

Tonight he would go to bed sober and tomorrow he would wake up migraine free. He’d be a new man.

But despite all of his attempts at turning over a new leaf, the fact still remained that his younger brother was dead. An no matter how good of an attorney he was there was no convincing a jury to bring him back. No bargaining with God or the devil himself. This was a loss that was out of his control and a pill he’d have to swallow.

He flicked the covers off with more force than necessary and sat up straight.

In spite of the things he couldn’t change, he would be caring for his brother’s child. He’d have a chance to start over and give this child the life he’d always dreamed he and Sasuke would have.

But first, he needed to research beds for children. 

And developmentally appropriate toys and books.

And he sure as hell hoped he had fresh milk in the fridge and a full box of cereal in the pantry.


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, most four year olds read books about shapes, colors and the alphabet. From what Itachi observed earlier that day and verified through an internet search, this Ta ( could read books meant for seven or eight year olds. What were the odds of Nono letting him borrow (or possibly keep) the book about the three little pigs that child was reading? Would he still be interested in it? Itachi wasn’t sure.

And then there were toys. When Itachi was younger he much preferred quiet activities like reading to noisier ones that developed boys’ fine motor skills like wooden blocks, matchbox cars and lego blocks. He vividly remembered Sasuke enjoying those types of things at four years old. He’d create cities out of the wooden blocks only to pretend to be Godzilla and destroy his work shortly afterwards. If this boy was anything like Sasuke he would surely enjoy the blocks. But if he was a reader like Itachi maybe he wouldn’t.

Buying a bed was easy. There was an abundance of home furnishing stores in the city that he could go to and request delivery services from. He’d rent a truck to deliver it to his apartment himself if need be. The problem wasn’t where to find a bed but where to put it once he purchased one. His apartment was only one bedroom. The only space large enough to accommodate a child sized bed was the living room which was currently inhabited by a large sectional and coffee table. Should he reduce the size of his sectional for something smaller in order to accommodate a child’s bed? But what sense did that make? He had the means to afford a bigger apartment he just didn’t have the time to go through the process at the moment. Maybe he could purchase a sofa bed to be placed in the living room? But what would he do with it when he moved? Put it in the child’s bedroom instead of a proper bed? He’d be better off just purchasing an air mattress to sleep on until he found a more permanent solution.

The issue of the car seat was easy. He found one at his local Wal-Mart and a quick internet search within the store told him exactly which one he needed for a four year old child. This purchase was a necessity that didn’t require much thought as he’d need to transport the child from the Social Services building to his apartment and eventually to a toy store or book store. After all, he couldn’t call an Uber every time he needed to take the kid somewhere.

His next concern was finding a car that could accommodate a car seat, unlike the two-seater sports car he currently had.

Luckily for him, car research wasn’t nearly as difficult as reorganizing his life (or his living room) to accommodate the sudden addition of a small child.

It was the sentimental value behind the car that made trading it more difficult.

Itachi was by no means a car enthusiast or aficionado by any stretch of the imagination. When one lived in a city it was good practice to walk or bike to nearby places, the former in which he did when he fetched a cup of coffee in the morning or wanted to eat out every now again. These days you could have almost anything delivered without ever leaving your home which was a plus. He could Uber if he didn’t feel like dealing with traffic or paying for parking or he could drive himself when meeting with a client or going to the court room where he had his own designated parking spot.

But this car was more than a status symbol or mode of transportation. It was a promise to Sasuke.

“Nice ride.” Sasuke said when Itachi pulled up. He was sitting on the steps of his apartment building mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“You think so?” Itachi asked, stepping out of the car.

“That this year’s model?” Sasuke asked rhetorically.

“It is.” Itachi answered despite Sasuke’s lack of enthusiasm. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

Sasuke glanced at the car and then at Itachi, looking him up and down. “Bragging about your wealth now, huh.”

“Who said I was bragging?” Itachi asked, stopping five feet away from where Sasuke sat. He smiled slightly, hoping that it would awaken the good nature he knew his younger sibling to have deep inside him.

Sasuke rose to his feet. “Forget about it.”

“I bought it for you.” Itachi announced abruptly. Not quite the way he planned for this interaction to go but his words caught Sasuke’s attention. 

Sasuke looked over his shoulder as he turned for the door. “What’s the catch?”

He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t giving Sasuke the car for free out of the kindness of his heart. But he didn’t like the word “catch” when used in this context. “Think of it as an incentive.”

“I knew it.” Sasuke said in a voice just above a whisper. “I don’t want it.”

“Sasuke, hear me out.” Itachi called after him.

“I said I don’t want it!” Sasuke shouted. “I’m not fucking dog Itachi! What do you want me to do? Stand or my back legs with my paws in the air like a fucking dumbass for everyone to laugh at?”

Itachi’s heart sank. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was never supposed to go like this but somehow Sasuke always saw through his good intentions and took things to the extreme. “I want you to go back to college and finish what you started, Sasuke.” He said, trying to keep his tone level. The way he saw it he had sixty seconds to convince Sasuke to listen to him. He’d say everything on his mind and elaborate if Sasuke gave him the chance. He just had to capture his attention and hold it for as long as he could.

“Yeah! I heard you the last twenty times you said that Itachi!” He yelled and threw open the door to his apartment building. Before he stepped inside he to face him once more. “I’ll go back to college on my own time! Not because you think you can bribe me with fancy cars!”

“Sasuke wait,”

“Go fuck yourself!” He yelled over his shoulder. He thrust a single finger in the air and slammed the door behind him.

“Sasuke!” Itachi called after him. “Sasuke would you just listen to me?” For once. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother’s number. It rang once and went to voicemail. He tried again. This time it didn’t ring at all.

He hadn’t heard from Sasuke for a long time after that day. He called and left messages, texted and reached out to him on social media a few times but never had any success. Eventually he gave up altogether knowing that if Sasuke needed him he’d reach out.

They never spoke about the car after that. And whenever Itachi came to visit he’d pay an Uber to drive him instead. Sasuke would never drive the car Itachi bought for him even though it was the type of car Sasuke would have died to sit in as a teenager before the accident. A car with a motor that could give a police car a run for its money. The closest thing to feeling like one had all the power in the world but without the badge and title. The thrill without the chase.

Now nothing more than a whisper in the wind and another transaction.

If Sasuke were still alive and Itachi were granted custody of his child the story would be different. Itachi would gladly assume guardianship of his nephew until the day Sasuke straightened out his life. He’d give the child the affection Sasuke desperately craved as both a child and an adult but never spoke of. When the child was asleep for the night he’d stay up late working with Sasuke find his way again and straighten out his life.

“What do you want?” He could hear Sasuke answer when he picked up the phone. “I already burned dinner, there’s nothing to eat in the fridge, I have a headache and a mandatory discussion board to participate in.”

“If you can wait half an hour I’ll be over with some groceries and make you something to last the week.” Itachi would volunteer. “Unless you’d rather order pizza. In that case I’ll pay and I’ll be over in ten.”

Itachi would also offer to babysit for free if it meant Sasuke could go back to school and focus on his studies when he needed to.

“What does he like to play with?” Itachi would text Sasuke.

And Sasuke would say “Why don’t you ask him yourself, smartass?” He’d snap only to text back an hour later. “Toy cars.”

Sasuke didn’t apologize often but Itachi could always tell when he was sorry. He’d make things right when he had a clear mind and say nothing more. It wasn’t much but it was always enough for Itachi. He’d take Sasuke snapping at him any day if it meant he could see the day when his younger brother could smile again without the help of recreational drugs and other stimulants.

Anything besides replaying unresolved arguments in his head every hour of the day when something reminded him of Sasuke. Even now he couldn’t help but wonder if there was underlying reason for Sasuke’s rage the day Itachi pulled up in the sports car. Had Sasuke been struggling to make ends work to care for his child? Was the child’s mother withholding him from seeing the boy? Had she also demanded that Sasuke shape up his life if he wanted to see his son again? Was Sasuke at his breaking point? Had Itachi been blind to his brother’s frustration and failed to notice? Had he pushed him over the edge?

“Maybe when you get your life together you can see our son again.”

“Think of it as an incentive,” Itachi had began before Sasuke cut him off, “to go back to college and finish what you started.”

But all Sasuke seemed to hear was “If you do X, Y and Z I’ll reward you with—” when all he needed to hear was “What can I do to help?”

The automatic doors at the car dealership parted for him, assaulting his nostrils with the smells of rubber, paint and new upholstery which made his head spin.

Maybe I should wait to sign the paperwork. Itachi considered in regard to the guardianship paperwork. Was he in the right headspace to care for his brother’s child? Would pouring milk into a bowl of cereal turn into a walk down memory lane, leaving him pouring until the bowl overflowed while the child begged him to stop? Would he zone out at a crosswalk while the child wandered into oncoming traffic because a teenager across the street having an argument over the phone reminded him of Sasuke during his teenage years? He didn’t even have the child in his care and he was mindlessly signing over the car that meant so much to him in favor of one that could accommodate a car seat in a single evening. That very morning he’d woken up with a hangover and nearly passed out in the lobby of the Social Service’s building. What made him think he’d be fit to take care of a child in this state just days after his brother’s death?

“Mom! Mom! Dad let me drive the cop car!” A young Sasuke beamed with excitement when their mother arrived home. He jumped up and down, waved his arms to mimic the motion of steering the wheel and explaining to her how he’d parked it in the driveway. Their father of course was doing all the pedal work and gently guiding Sasuke as he steered the vehicle into place.

“That’s wonderful honey! Good job!”

“Dad said I was a a-nashur-uhl!” Sasuke beamed. “’Tachi saw it too, didn’t you ‘Tachi?”

Itachi nodded from his spot in the doorway, etching the details in his memory like how their mother could catch Sasuke midjump and hold him in her arms, how wide Sasuke’s smile was when he felt like he’d accomplished something and the way his limbs punched and kicked the air, always in motion. 

“Really?” Their mother cooed like it was the most exciting thing she’d heard all day. And it probably was. “A natural you say?” 

“Hm-hm! I can’t wait to drive a car like dad’s so I can go really fast and chase down bad guys!” He stretched his arms out in front of him like he was grasping a steering wheel and mimicked the sound of a car engine revving. “VRUM VRUM!”

Sasuke had been so innocent back then, wanting only to drive a fast car when he grew older. His impatience and sense of invulnerability would result in a mistake that would change everything in a single night…

Across from him the dealer offered him an iPad and asked him to sign his name with the stylus. He did as instructed without a second thought and reclined in his chair.

It was too late to give Sasuke the life he had hoped for. The one his younger brother deserved. To preserve his innocence. To hold him when he was hurting. To shield him from the world’s impurities.

But it wasn’t too late for this child. A child whose innocence he could preserve until he was old enough to understand the way the world worked. And Itachi would teach him. He’d hold him when he was hurting and make sure to tell him how much he cared for him even if they fought or argued as he grew older. Itachi would care for him in all the ways he failed to care for Sasuke.

And this time he’d be sure to ask “How can I help” and “What can I do?”


	6. Chapter 6

Itachi strode into Konoha Social Services the next morning fueled by several cups of coffee. The turnaround after a weekend of drinking wasn’t an easy one and left him staying up later than usual. He woke up this morning irritable from lack of sleep, frustration from his brother’s death, buyer’s remorse from the last minute car trade in last night and anxiety of what was to come – all which would have been washed away by a few drinks neatly wrapped up with a migraine the next morning. Nerves aside, he had to put up a front. He had to look confident and act confident and uphold the picture of a fully functional adult capable of raising a small child. Hell, he’d nearly raised Sasuke when he was a child. Surely he was more qualified now that he was an adult, right?

“You clean up nice!” Mabui greeted him.

Itachi flashed her a humble, yet charming smile. “Thanks. I feel a lot better today.” He said. “Grief hits at the most inopportune times, doesn’t it?”

Mabui nodded sympathetically. He probably wasn’t the only person to come into Social Services grieving the loss of a relative whilst completing the process of adopting another. Occurrences like these weren’t uncommon, sadly.

“You’re looking much better today.” Nono greeted him a few moments later when she appeared in the lobby, echoing Mabui’s sentiments.

“Thank you; I feel much better.”

Nono smiled. “Grief acts in funny ways sometimes. Just remember to be kind to yourself and take things one day at a time. Don’t fight the process but be cognizant of your well-being and act accordingly. It’ll be good for you and Itachi in the long run.”

Itachi mentally winced at the mention of the child’s given name but upheld his professional demeanor and thanked Nono anyways. He hadn’t decided if he was touched that Sasuke had decided to name his son after him but the fact remained that it would confuse Itachi himself and others who spoke about the child in his presence. Over the past twelve hours he thought of several workarounds and settled for the nickname “Ta.” He sort of liked it. It was a shortened variation of the child’s real name and a nickname nobody had given Itachi before.

Nono directed him to follow her to her office so that they could look over and finalize the paperwork. She pulled a worn, upholstered chair up to the front of her desk where she’d prepared stacks of papers for him to read over and sign, neatly paperclipped and staggered into piles. She sat across from him in her swivel chair and began to explain the nature of each document.

He listened to the words coming from her mouth and nodded when she asked if he needed any clarification and laughed when she joked with him and said “But you’re probably used to words like this and documents like these based on your career, aren’t you?” But in actuality Itachi’s mind was focused on other things. His apartment looked the same way it had just days before he ever knew of his nephew’s existence because he wasn’t sure what to buy him beyond the regulation car seat and a practical mode of transportation. And maybe it was nerves but Ta didn’t act the way Sasuke used to when they were younger. No matter how many times he reminded himself that genetics played a key role in the conception of the child or the tension of their first meeting he wanted so badly to see Sasuke in him. To have the child run to his arms and exclaim “You look like my dad!” or “Dad always talked about you!” Something.

But he would have to be patient. After all, he only learned of Ta’s existence the day before. He couldn’t expect to know everything Sasuke had been keeping a secret from him since Itachi went to college. Especially not from the mouth of a four-year-old.

Then there was the issue of time. At Ta’s age his memory was bound to be unreliable. Factor in how much time Sasuke actively spent around him and the amount Ta was likely to remember would decrease as time went on. If he waited too long he might never know what was going on in Sasuke’s life behind closed doors. If he prodded too soon he ran the risk of upsetting Ta.

“And that about does it!” Nono said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He unclicked the pen he was holding and handed it back to her as she stacked the papers in a single pile. “If you’re ready I can give Keiri a call.”

Keiri was the temporary foster parent Ta was staying with. “I’m ready whenever she is. I don’t want to burden her if she’s in the middle of something.” Itachi said.

Nono shook her head. “I talked with her yesterday. I told her she’d be on call in the morning and whenever you reached a decision I’d let her know.” She said. “Do you have any other questions before I make the call?”

Itachi started to shake his head when his gaze fell on the book Ta was reading the day before on a stack of papers beside Nono’s computer monitor. “Um, yes. I was wondering if I could borrow that book? He was reading it yesterday and seemed to enjoy it...”

Nono followed his gaze and swiveled around in her chair. “Of course.” She said with a warm smile and handed him the book. “That’ll be a good way to bond with him the first few days. And don’t worry about bringing it back. You can keep it for as long as you like.”

Itachi thanked her and rose to his feet. There were a lot of unknowns surrounding this child that made him uneasy but at least he knew of one thing Ta would like.

\--

Keiri was a large, robust woman who looked like she’d reared many kids in her lifetime. Itachi imagined her scooping up children in her arms with ease while she cooked or cleaned around her home, eventually rocking them to sleep on her hips and singing to them softly.

Her tone too was a pleasant one that was soft and inviting and her cheeks blushed a rosy pink whenever she smiled or laughed. When she entered a room you couldn’t help but genuinely smile in response to her energy.

It was no wonder she took up the business of fostering children whose parents were incapacitated. She was a natural. The only qualm Itachi had with her was her naming system.

“Look Itachi, it’s Big Itachi!” She pointed as they walked through the double doors. 

Itachi forced a casual smile even though he detested the nickname she’d given him. It was an honest solution to an otherwise confusing situation but was that really better than calling them both by name? He hadn’t revealed the nickname he’d come up with to Nono or Keiri yet because he wasn’t sure how Ta would feel about it. Itachi had barely said more than two sentences to him and already he was renaming him. He could only imagine how that would look. And he was desperately hoping that Ta would accept his nickname because he wasn’t sure what else to call him.

There was still the tiny matter of what he’d like Ta to call him but they could figure that out later. He just prayed Ta didn’t already have it in his head to call him “Big Itachi.” Dear God anything but that.

Keiri bent down to Ta’s level. “Remember from yesterday? He’s going to be taking care of you from now on are you excited?”

Ta nodded once with an expression of hardened resolve. From where Itachi stood it was less excitement to get to know his uncle better and more of a sovereign responsibility to complete a task that was expected of him. What an odd child…Itachi silently mused. Though if he was brought up in a household with absent parents it wasn’t so hard to believe. Children like that often grew up quickly and learned to take care of themselves but at that age? Anything was possible, he guessed. He’d sustain judgment until he saw the damage for himself up close and personal.

Itachi approached the two, smiling politely at both and waving to Ta. He remembered it was best to speak to children at their level to build a sense of trust and equal ground instead of towering over them and already he’d forgotten that rule. But what did he say to him? “How was your trip? How was your day?” He was a child not a client for God’s sake!

“Itachi doesn’t have a lot of belongings.” Keiri cut in before Itachi fumble through a coherent greeting. “I threw together a few clothes for him since he came into my care and bought him a brand new toothbrush but that’s about it.” She said.

A toothbrush. The thought crossed Itachi’s mind around midnight the night before and again this morning but of course he’d forgotten to make a note of that. What he found more concerning was Ta’s lack of belongings. “Is there any reason—” He began to say when he felt a light tug at his side.

He looked down to find Ta tugging on the Real Story of the Three Little Pigs clutched in his hand. “I read this yesterday.” He said.

Itachi, thrilled that Ta was initiating a conversation with him unprompted, seized the opportunity and quickly knelt down to his level. “I remember.” He said. “Ms. Yakushi was kind enough to let us borrow it for as long as you like. Would you like that?”

Ta nodded and turned to face Nono. “Thank you Mrs. Yakushi.”

Nono smiled and tilted her head to the side in a manner which girls often did. “You’re very welcome and I love your manners.”

She had a point. Most children, at least, the ones Itachi observed who wandered away from their parents at the grocery store, were lacking in good manners these days. Did children even know what the word manners meant? He was confident this child would. Maybe he would ask him later.

“Here.” Keiri said, handing him the worn bookbag she’d been carrying over one shoulder. “Better give this to you before I go home with it!”

Itachi took it from her, surprised by the weight of it. “It’s very light…” He found himself saying when he noticed Keiri’s look of surrender. “Not that I was expecting anything more. I am indebted to you for taking care of him during this time. I—”

Keiri laughed. “No need to apologize Mr. Uchiha.” She said. “Normally I throw in any toys or children’s books I have lying around the house that other kids haven’t laid claim to but Itachi wasn’t interested in any of that.” She said and leaned close to whisper something in his ear. “But you better keep an eye on him. This one’s a reader. If you turn around for even a second he’ll be reading the back of the nutrition label of the cereal box if you’re not careful!”

This solidified Itachi’s plan to take Ta to a bookstore after they got something to eat. In fact he was relieved that he hadn’t gone ahead and bought an assortment of pre-school level books for him to read when he was out shopping last night.

Sasuke was never a reader. He liked to listen to Itachi read him books under the cover of the blanket forts they constructed if only to stay up as late as he could with him at night. But when it came time for him to read the books his teachers sent him home with their mother would constantly remind him to stay still in his seat and urge him to wait until they were done to watch TV or go outside and play. As he got older he never developed much of an interest in books beyond gaming magazines or guidebooks. Nutrition labels were never any interested to him either.

“What’cha got planned today Mr. Uchiha?” Keiri asked him.

Itachi, still kneeling on the floor while Ta studied the author’s page of the book, smiled and answered “Well, I was thinking we should get something tasty to eat for lunch first. Did you have lunch yet?”

“He ate breakfast bright and early at 7:30.” Keiri answered when Ta regarded him with silence.

He had manners, no doubt, but Itachi was still debating whether he was just deep in thought and didn’t hear him or was purposefully ignoring him. The later was a trait of an older Sasuke and one Itachi hoped he hadn’t passed on to Ta so early on.

“Well, I was thinking we could go out for lunch to celebrate our first meeting and then maybe do some shopping before we went home.” He explained more so to Keiri than to anyone else “Does that sound like a plan?” He asked Ta.

Ta had flipped the book over and was studying the summary on the back cover now.

“See what I mean?” Keiri asked from above. “Itachi’s a bookworm.”

Itachi shrugged on his coat and slipped Ta’s backpack over his shoulder before rising to his feet. “I bet you’re getting hot wearing that thing in here.” Itachi said to him, not expecting a reply this time. “So if there isn’t anything left for me to do here I suppose we should get going.” He said to Nono and Keiri.

Nono told him that he was set to go and that she would spend the rest of the afternoon processing the newly completed paperwork. She encouraged him to call her if he had any issues and hoped that Ta would love reading the book a second time to which they both thanked her – Itachi for the offer, and Ta for the book.

Itachi watched Keiri kneel to the ground and envelop Ta in an embrace that hid him from sight momentarily. “I’m gonna miss you little buddy.” She said, pulling away and ruffling his hair. “Be good to Big Itachi and keep reading. Books are good for you and if you keep reading you’ll go far in life, got it?”

Ta smiled. “I will!”

“Good.” Keiri said.

Itachi watched their interactions, hoping that he could harness even a fraction of Keiri’s energy so that he could interact with Ta like she did with such ease. He considered inviting her out to breakfast with them if she didn’t have anything else planned. Maybe it would help ease the transition slightly. He’d interact with Ta and if he didn’t answer maybe she could prompt an answer out of him. Sooner or later Itachi would have to learn to interact with Ta without the help of others. He’d have to gain his trust and form a bond on his own. If a stranger like Keiri could manage then Itachi could too. It would just take time.

He resolved to take Ta out for lunch on his own. He wanted to spend some one-on-one time with his nephew and get to know him better. To see which of Sasuke’s traits lie beneath the surface if any.

One thing was for certain, this child liked to read. He wasn’t sure what sparked this interest but like a small fire Itachi would do anything in his power to nurture it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up who Keiri was. She was one of the nuns at the orphanage Kabuto went to who scolded him for being out past his bedtime. I think she and Nono would make a great team even if I tweaked her personality a little to fit the needs of the story.
> 
> I'm also trying to work in some cliff hangers to end the chapters with instead of emotionally uplifting anecdotes. We'll see.


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